


Promises

by Gerec



Series: The Champion and the Healer [4]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, M/M, The Calling, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:33:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel Howe's encounters with Anders - apostate, fellow Warden and former lover - over the years. </p><p>Their story begins and ends at Vigil's Keep.<br/><i>“No,” the mage interrupts, straightening his shoulders and leveling a fiercely determined gaze his way, “It is done and cannot be undone even if it was what I wanted. My path is chosen and the course is set.” His tone softens then and he says, “You’re a good friend Nate and I’ve missed you. There are many things in my life that I regret. You...are not one of them.”</i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Part of The Champion & the Healer universe with Garrett Hawke and Solona Amell - though it's not necessary to have read the other stories before this one.
> 
> This is a story I've wanted to write for a long time now and I'm glad to have finally finished it. :)

_9:31 Dragon: Crown and Lion Inn, City of Amaranthine_

The morning sun seeps easily through the flimsy cloth drapes, bright fingers of light waking Nathaniel from a deep slumber. The body he’s wrapped around is warm and soft and he allows himself a moment to savor a quiet contentment not felt since he returned home from the Free Marches.

This...thing between him and the mage – so new, so unexpected – fills his waking thoughts and itches under his skin. If not for Solona’s intervention, translating for him Anders’ nonchalance and irritating humor he would have dismissed the other man readily based on first impressions; handsome but shallow, devoid of duty and honor. 

Now he finds himself filled with emotions he doesn’t quite understand, so far away and disconnected from the cold fury of his father’s betrayal and shame from the dishonored Howe name. 

He trails long, slim fingers through auburn blond hair, strands lit like flames and spread like gold across the pillow. Lips find a home against the shell of an ear, on a stubbled cheek, the pale curve of a neck before he slides slowly out of bed.

“Where’d you go?” The voice is rough with sleep and the tone can only be described as a whine and Nathaniel chuckles as he pulls on his tunic and breeches. 

“It’s late and the Commander and I need to review Kristoff’s notes again before we head out to the Blackmarsh.”

Anders flings an arm over his eyes and moans, complaining loudly, “Come back to bed. You promised you would take care of this.” He palms himself under the covers and grins lewdly at the archer. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

He rolls his eyes at the mage and cinches his belt, sliding his daggers in place before grabbing his bow from the table and answers, tone dry, “You’ll have to make do with your own hand Anders. Solona is not the most patient person in the world as you well know.”

The other man sighs and then flings the covers off his nude body, stretching slowly and luxuriously before making his way over and pressing himself against Nathaniel. “I do know. But I can wait until your meeting is over. _If_ you promise to come back.”

He pulls Anders into a kiss that’s rough and deep, his hand grasping the back of the mage’s head, eyes dark with want and emotion unspoken. 

“I promise.”

 

_9:31 Dragon: Outside Vigil’s Keep, Arling of Amaranthine_

Solona grips him steadily by the shoulder, a tight smile that does nothing to hide the grim expression on her face. “I need you to stay here Nathaniel. I can't leave the Keep without any of her Wardens should something happen while we’re away.” Leaning forward, she lowers her voice slightly and continues, “Protect our men and I swear I will bring him home safe.”

Nathaniel grasps her arm and nods in answer, “I will do what you ask of me, Commander. Nothing less.”

Solona grins and turns away, patting Anders on the rear as he passes her on the way to the archer’s side. The mage looks frightened and determined at the same time and he exhales deeply as he pulls Nathaniel into his arms. “Make sure Oghren doesn’t drink all the ale.”

He keeps his arms around Anders for a long time, breathing slowly in and out until his lover relaxes and buries his face in Nathaniel’s hair. Pulling away slowly he places a calloused hand against the other man’s cheek and whispers, “Promise me you’ll be safe. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Anders kisses him, chaste and filled with softness and affection so unlike their previous encounters. 

“Alright.”

 

_9:31 Dragon: The Battlements at Vigil’s Keep, Arling of Amaranthine_

They stand beside one another, on top of the battlements, watching the stars. It’s late and the Keep is quiet and this is the last night they will have together before he departs for Nevarra.

Anders is shaking and Nathaniel can’t tell if it’s with fear or anger.

“You can’t leave me here by myself.”

“You’re not alone here. Sigrun and the others are here with you. And I’ll be back in six months.”

His lover spins to face him, face grim and arms wrapped tightly across his chest as he hisses, “Stroud is recruiting templars!”

Nathaniel grips the mage’s arms gently and tries to calm Anders with reassuring words. “He’s not actively recruiting them. He’s only allowing them to join the Order, which we both know is within his right. We all are brothers and sisters and you needn’t fear them any longer.”

His arms are shoved away roughly and he watches, helplessly, as the other man stalks back and forth in front of him. Anders shakes his head and the grim look on his face is filled with hatred and self loathing.

“You...you don’t understand. They can stop being _templars_ as easily as I can stop being a _mage_. If Solona were still here...she would never let them set foot in Vigil’s Keep!”

“You can’t blame her for choosing to stay by Alistair’s side, especially in such an important role as the King’s Chancellor.”

Anders sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Of course I don’t begrudge her a life with the man she loves. How could I? She’s done so much for me and for Ferelden...” He turns, taking a step closer and pleads, “Take me with you.”

He wants to, so much, had in fact made the request with Stroud three days ago and been denied. ‘Their healer is needed here’ was the excuse given and a small part of Nathaniel wondered then if Anders’ accusations weren’t unfounded, that they didn’t want to let the mage leave the Keep unguarded. 

“I cannot.”

“Then stay!” Anders voice is sharp and desperate as he grabs Nathaniel’s hand and squeezes hard. “You don’t need to go! You have nothing to prove to these people!”

He pulls Anders close and kisses him, deep, filled with longing. He wants to show the other man how much he cares, that he loves him and will do anything to ensure his wellbeing. If he’s to earn a promotion to Warden Commander he must follow the tasks set to him by Weisshaupt without fail. And with the rank will come the necessary authority to keep his lover safe.

“Mage, you know why I have to go.”

Anders does not answer him, nor does he turn as Nathaniel’s words follow him off the battlements.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

 

_9:37 Dragon: Deep Roads, Near Kirkwall_

The elation, the relief and gratitude for the Maker’s miracle that Anders is _alive_ has slowly transmuted into numbing pain and heartache. Nathaniel watches in silence from across the hastily built fire as the Champion of Kirkwall leans over and murmurs softly into his former lover's ear.

Disbelief is still written across his face he’s certain, of his timely rescue at the hands of none other than the man he’s dreamed of for all these years. The mage lost in a tale of blood and death mere weeks after Nathaniel’s departure; never heard from again by those left at Vigil’s Keep.

“You alright Warden?” the dwarf Varric says, giving him a sharp look that somehow manages to convey both warning and sympathy at the same time.

Nathaniel can’t stop staring at the mage who has avoided all eye contact with him since their brief and passionate reunion. 

_“And...Anders?”_

_The bow clatters to the ground unheeded as he reaches for the specter that haunts his dreams, pulling him into a gut wrenching kiss filled with joy and pain and relief and sorrow. And for a few glorious moments the kiss is returned with equal weight until Anders pulls away and cups Nathaniel’s cheek with his hand._

_“Making friends as always I see.”_

_“There’s no escaping you it seems.” Not a day or night goes by without the thought of you, he thinks but does not say._

_“I’m special that way.” Treasured. Beyond description._

_“That’s one way to put it." And a thousand more besides._

“No, I don’t think I am.”

\---

The Champion bids him farewell, his manner stiff but not unfriendly before leading the rest of his party away from the cave entrance. 

The mage watches Hawke retreat with a soft smile on his face and Nathaniel aches for that same affection once directed his way. He gently takes Anders’ hand in his own and places it over his heart, longing to hold his ex-lover close and to take him home.

“Will you forgive me Anders?” he whispers, voice rough with emotion as the other man meets his steady gaze. “I have failed you and Justice both. I told you I would be there for you and...I wasn’t. I wasn’t there.”

“Nathaniel,” Anders answers, shaking his head, his voice weary and sad, “it wasn’t your fault, what happened to me. Justice and I both made a choice; we are the ones responsible for our fate.”

“But I...”

“No,” the mage interrupts, straightening his shoulders and leveling a fiercely determined gaze his way. “It is done and cannot be undone even if it was what I wanted. My path is chosen and the course is set.” His tone softens then and he says, “You’re a good friend Nate and I’ve missed you. There are many things in my life that I regret. You...are not one of them.”

He cannot think of a response to Anders’ words; nothing that will change the circumstances and the distance the years have placed between them. The mage’s heart belongs to another now, so Nathaniel will give his loyalty where love no longer holds any value. 

“I will be stationed here for a short while yet. If you have need of me...if I can do anything to assist you, I promise you I will come.”

Anders smiles then and the lines around his amber eyes crinkle, reminding him of the younger, more carefree man he knew in Ferelden. The mage brushes a stray lock of hair from the archer’s face and places a light kiss on the corner of his lips in farewell.

“Goodbye Nate.”

 

_9:37 Dragon: The Warden Commander’s Office at Vigil’s Keep, Arling of Amaranthine_

He stands quietly and waits, leaning next to the window as Anders makes his way slowly around Solona's old office. It's Nathaniel's now of course - has been for the last six years since he assumed command of the Wardens in Ferelden - but almost nothing in the room has changed. 

Anders takes a book off the shelf, flipping through the pages idly before returning it to the same spot and then runs a finger along the worn edges of the map of Amaranthine on the wall.

"It feels strange," he says softly, not really speaking to Nathaniel at all, "being here again. Everything still looks the same as I remember." The mage chuckles and taps lightly against the plate of sweets on the large wooden desk. "You even have honeycakes in the same spot."

Nathaniel shrugs and locks eyes with Anders from across the room. "They were your favorite. It reminds me of you."

Silence.

And then the mage grabs a sweet and takes a bite and pointedly changes the subject. "When is Solona expected to arrive?"

The disappointment is sharp but expected and Nathaniel is able to answer with an even tone, "Two days. She was delayed leaving Denerim; Solona wanted to speak with the Grand Cleric to get the Chantry's views on the events in Kirkwall." 

At the mention of Kirkwall Anders' whole body tenses and then he all but collapses into the chair in front of him. "Hawke and I shouldn't be here. I've put you and Solona both in an impossible situation. If the Chantry finds out that you're harboring me at the Keep...we need to leave."

"Stay, Anders." He pushes himself off the wall and quickly stalks over, crouching low to look into the other man's eyes. "You and the Champion will be safe here. No one even knows you're in Ferelden and they won't search for you at Vigil's Keep."

The mage isn't convinced, his hands clenched tightly around the arms of the chair as he tries to argue, "But..."

Nathaniel raises his hand to interrupt and then wraps his fingers over white knuckles until Anders relaxes his grip slightly. "Stay and let me keep you safe. Stay until you and Hawke have a plan." He leans forward and presses their foreheads together as he continues, "Stay forever."

He expects a firm objection to his suggestion; an impassioned argument against Nathaniel's good intentions. Instead there is silence again before Anders pulls away slightly and asks, "Why are you doing this?"

"Anders," he whispers, brushing the curve of a stubbled cheek, "do you really not know?"

A pained grimace crosses the blond's face and he closes his eyes before answering, "Nate, I...Hawke is..."

"I know Anders." He leans back and then stands slowly, backing away to put some distance between them. "You love him."

"I do."

Nathaniel exhales deeply and dares to ask the question that's been on his mind for all these years, "Would it have been different if I'd stayed? If you'd stayed? Could you and I have been happy?"

The mage sighs and sinks further into his seat. “We  _were_ happy, Nate. I…I don’t know what would have happened. The past can’t be changed and there are no words to make things better.” He looks up at the archer with eyes full of unspoken pain and regret and it takes every ounce of Nathaniel’s willpower not to pull Anders into his arms.

Noises from the courtyard drift in through the open window, filling the empty space between them. Hawke’s laughter and Sigrun’s taunts mingle with an occasional bellow from Oghren as the former Champion of Kirkwall spars with Nathaniel’s lieutenants and their latest recruits.

“I’m sorry. Are we…your friendship means everything to me. I hope that never changes.”

Nathaniel forces a small smile to hide his shattered heart. “Never.”

 

_9:47 Dragon: Old College of Magi, Siege of Cumberland, Nevarra_

“Get out! And don’t come back here until you bring me some useful information about Hawke!”

This is not a side of Anders he’s ever seen; his voice thunderous and deep, streaks of blue erupting and vanishing from his skin in the blink of an eye. Nathaniel watches as the others – mages and sympathizers, revolutionaries all – bustle quickly out of the room at his outburst. 

“Anders,” he says, his own voice is soft though it echoes across the now silent and empty room. “We’ll find him.”

There’s no response as Nathaniel pushes off the wall where he's been standing half in shadow through the whole meeting. He makes his way slowly towards the center of the room where the mage is slumped over the large map of Nevarra spread out across the massive oak desk.

“Your friends are searching for him; Fenris and the pirate captain. They’ll find him with Varric’s help. The templars can’t keep his location secret for long.”

His fingers ache to reach out and touch, to reassure and comfort Anders as he mourns his missing lover. The blond looks as though he’s aged twenty years in the two weeks since Hawke was ambushed on his way back from negotiations in Orlais; barely stopping to eat or rest as he works tirelessly to help the others reinforce the city from the impending siege.

“He’s dead Nate. They have no reason to keep him alive. He's dead! He's dead and it should have been _me_."

Nathaniel scoffs at his words and the mage turns his head abruptly, staring at him with an expression of irritation and disbelief. 

"The Garrett Hawke I know - survivor of the Blight, Champion of Kirkwall, Leader of the Mage Uprising - is hardly going to let a few templars get the best of him." He places a firm hand on Ander's shoulder and the other man relaxes as Nathaniel's meaning becomes clear. “You’ll get him back...nothing will keep him from returning to your side.”

Anders chuckles, the sound filled with bitterness and recrimination. “It would have been better if he’d never met me, Nate. Never loved me or allowed me to drag him into this Maker forsaken war.”

He answers with a wry smile on his lips, his hand sliding from the mage’s shoulder to gently tuck a loose lock of blond hair behind his ear, “We cannot help who we love.” 

“No.” Anders does not turn to face him, instead reaching over his shoulder to grasp Nathaniel’s hand with his own. “Though he would be much happier I think, if he had someone else in his life.” 

Nathaniel threads their fingers together and thinks about a night on top of the battlements, under a starry Ferelden sky. “His heart was promised long ago and I do not believe that will ever change.”

 

_9:60 Dragon: Deep Roads, Under Vigil's Keep_

The hour is early, dawn just breaking as the small group makes their way to the Deep Roads entrance through the Keep's basement tunnels.

Nathaniel made this short trip just two years ago, sending Sigrun and Oghren off on their Calling with a promise to follow soon in their footsteps. Solona and Alistair departed three years before that, journeying to Orzammar for a departure of pomp and ceremony befitting the King and Hero of Ferelden.

On this day there is only his second-in-command - Connor Guerrin - soon to be the new Warden Commander of Ferelden and Varric Tethras who has come to bid them a last good-bye.

"Blondie," the dwarf says, pulling Anders into a tight embrace as they pretend not to see the tears threatening to fall. "It's been quite the adventure hasn't it? Kirkwall and the mages...the War...your story's good and I'll tell it often."

"It has Varric." The mage's smile is genuine, eyes warm with a mix of affection and sorrow as he answers, "I couldn't have asked for a better friend than you." His grip tightens at his next words. "Promise me you'll take care of him, please?"

The dwarf nods in agreement and pats Anders' reassuringly. "I won't let him out of my sight Blondie, I swear. He's in good hands."

Nathaniel has already said his goodbyes the night before and he bids a final farewell now to Connor and Varric before turning to Anders. He takes the mage's hand in his own and together they step through the great stone door and head into the Deep Roads without a backwards glance.

\---

"Will you stay with me? Until the end?" 

"I will never leave your side again, Anders. I promise."

 

_Epilogue_

They find them on the fourth day.

Varric follows the markers left by Howe as they navigate the Deep Roads, though the darkspawn corpses pave an easy enough path to follow the farther in they go. He's the first one to spot the mage and the Warden Commander, nestled inside a small alcove next to the main path.

At first glance it looks like the two are merely asleep, Howe sitting with his back against the cave wall, cradling Anders in his arms. As they make their way closer, a controlled burst of light appears from Hawke's hand, illuminating the two men where they lay. 

There are wounds unhealed on their bodies, their clothing covered in darkspawn blood. Four sets of fingers are curled around an arrow through the mage's heart and a dagger is lodged in the archer's side. But Varric knows they didn't die from these wounds; can see that their lips are white from an ingested poison with death coming for them both like a dreamless sleep.

Hawke stands for a long time, eyes never leaving his lover and says not a word to Varric or the Wardens that journeyed with them from the Keep. He does not cry - the tears were shed days ago before Anders ever left - and does not scream and this quiet, hopeless desolation is all that remains of the Champion of Kirkwall.

They take the bodies back the way they came, through the tunnels towards the Keep, Anders nestled in Hawke's arms as the Wardens carry their former Commander. One of young recruits asks why they're taking them back, out of the Deep Roads and the answer is the only thing Hawke says in those eight days.

"I won't leave him down here in the dark." 

\---

They build a large pyre in the courtyard of the Keep, laying the two bodies side by side. Hawke takes the Tevinter Chantry amulet from its resting place under Anders' coat, tucking it under his armor above his heart. He leaves the tattered red silk scarf still tied to the mage's wrist and places a final, lingering kiss on the dead man's lips before setting the whole thing ablaze.

"Will you scatter their ashes together?" Varric asks quietly as they watch the fire burn bright under the Ferelden night sky.

Hawke's gaze does not leave the pyre, the silhouette of his heart, his soul, his everything still visible through the orange flames. "He waited a long time Varric, to have Anders by his side again. It's the least I can do for them." 

\---

Hours later, in the early light of dawn, he follows Garrett Hawke out the gates of Vigil's Keep for the last time.

"Come Varric. We still have a war to win."


End file.
